“We do have a limited menu,” Vashti says, entering the truck and disappearing beneath the counter. A second later she pops back up with a red-and-white-checkered food boat holding a crispy golden fried chicken breast. “But we got chicken.”
“Oh, yes, hunty,” Hendrix crows, reaching for the chicken with one hand and the hot sauce with the other. “I’m just gonna taste this right quick for you to make sure it’s okay before the general public gets to it.”
“Generous of you.” Vashti laughs.
“Here comes the boss,” Cassie says, shooting quick glances at both Vashti and me. “I mean, the other boss.”
Josiah approaches with long, confident strides. Proud set to his head. Shoulders wide, body fluent with just a touch of swagger in his gait. He is flanked by Deja and Kassim, and trailed by one of the biggest dogs I’ve ever seen in my life.
Ottis Redding.
I’ll never forget Aunt Byrd bringing this beautiful Great Dane with his shiny coat of unrelieved black to our house. A gift from her last husband, Herbert, the legendary R & B singer’s canine namesake was just a pup when we first met.
“Herbertwouldgive me the dog with the shortest life span,” Byrd had half joked. “Since all he ever brought me was grief.”
A wicked light in her dark eyes, she had added in an aside, “And sex. Whooo, chile, that man could lay some pipe.”
My lips twitch even as my heart pinches. You had to smile when Byrd was around.
“Mom!” Kassim rushes ahead of Josiah and Deja and gives me a tight hug. I thought that by ten, he would have grown beyond this unabashed love for his mama. Boys usually do around now, but his affection for me is still open and uninhibited, even in front of his friends. Maybe he saw me sad for so long, he’s afraid to withhold it from me.
“How was school?” I ask.
“Good.” Kassim squints up at Grits’s food truck menu. “Can I have ribs?”
“Oh, my God, with the ribs,” Deja says, but smiles at her brother. The smile dims when she meets my eyes. “Hey, Mom.”
“Deja, hey.” I hate this tension with her, but I can’t seem to fix it. “How was school?”
“Fine.” She shrugs. “The usual waste of time, I guess.”
I bite back the response that automatically rises to my lips.
“Good,” I say, not wanting to ruin the night before it starts. “And, Kassim, if you want ribs, I guess you can have them.”
“I thought you were gonna try something different tonight, Seem,” Josiah says, joining our little group huddled around the Grits truck.
Kassim’s expression turns pleading. “Can I change my mind? The ribs are the best thing.”
“Well, I, for one, appreciate the compliment.” Vashti laughs. “That’s my grandmama’s special sauce.”
“Grandma knew what she was doing,” Milky pipes in from behind the counter.
“Truck looks good,” Josiah says, turning his attention to my friends. “Hey, Hendrix. Soledad, belated happy birthday.”
They both practically simper under his attention. He does have that way of making you feel you and only you have somehow managed to coax out his reluctant charm.
“Everything okay back at the restaurant?” Josiah asks Vashti. Not me, but he already knows I’ve been focused on the event. I told him that myself, so it shouldn’t sting that he consults with her instead of me, the actual co-owner.
Shouldn’t, but does a little.
“Everything’s great,” Vashti answers, coming to stand beside Josiah. I wonder if I’m the only one who notices the way she looks at him, or if anyone else sees the longing her implacable exterior doesn’t manage to hide.
“I’ll still dash back over to the restaurant in a bit to double-check,” Vashti adds. “Make sure the dinner crowd’s going okay. Callile or I will be there all night.”
“Can I go over with you, V, since the truck doesn’t have the full menu?” Deja pleads with a warm smile, hands pressed together. “I want crab cakes.”
When was the last time Deja smiled at me that way? Tried to spend any time with me? I know they’re just walking to the restaurant together, but my jaw still aches with tension. Between finding out about Vashti dating my ex, playing games with my kids, and now winning my daughter over seemingly with barely any effort, I have to suppress my petty reflex.